The (Cheap) Seats With The Clearest View
by Zarius
Summary: Fifty-Six days into a galactic tournament, Don Hunt seeks to complete the Sagan sanction, Leonardo teams with the Lightning Leauge, Raphael and April engage in crucial combat to rescue their loved ones, and the nature of reality is thrown into question courtesy of Krang and the cookie and spooky Doctor Chaplin...
1. We're Leaving Together

**TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES:**

**THE (CHEAP) SEATS WITH THE CLEAREST VIEW**

**WRITTEN BY ZARIUS**

* * *

**NOTE: ****This takes place after "Turtles Forever" and is book nine of a ten-book series. The other books in the series include: "So Long, No Thanks For All The Fish", "My Seer, My Secretary", "Raphael Counts 'Em All", "The Lotus and The Sun", "Mutants and Miracles", "The Flies That Came To Dinner", "The Dreggs of Society", and "A Radical Portrait of Dimension X"**

**The events of the last three books are VITAL to understanding some of the developments that occur in this and future books in the series, so be sure to read it before continuing. Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are trademarked by Nickelodeon. Character from the 1987 TMNT animated series are trademarked by Fred Wolf. All original characters are mine**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE:**

**"WE'RE LEAVING TOGETHER..."**

**TRIVERAS QUADRANT**

**TOURNAMENT DURATION: 56 DAYS**

**2014**

The silver-tipped fins of the space-faring shark-shaped vessel coursed through the star fields of the Triveras quadrant, heading towards Satellite BAYMNT.1

"This is _The Inaugural_ to BAYMNT, we are on final approach" said Gordon over the communication channels patched into the Satellite that his ship was approaching.

"Copy that _Inaugural, _stand by for docking"

"Fifty-six days of this...never thought it'd last this long, these best-of-seven fights are costing me a bundle, what say you?" he asked his co-pilot

"Aye Brenan, it's nothing like the old days" the co-pilot replied

"Them clones though, they were worth a packet. Better than the real thing I imagine"

"Well don't be saying that in front of the cargo. He tends to twitch when you talk of the superior product to him" continued his co-pilot, pointing back to a large containment vat behind them. It carried within it two things, lots of water, and a tall, silently, and frequently stirring creature.

As the ship docked within the vast and intimidating hanger bay of Satellite BAYMNT.1, Gordon Brennan led a series of drones off of the ship as they carried the vat from the vessel towards the cargo depository units. Gordon showed his credentials to the customs officers as they approached him to verify the cargo he was carrying.

"Is he in prime condition?" asked the customs officer

"You be the judge" said Gordon, "Now give me my pay so I can afford some fuel and a decent sized family meal. The wife's been cooking all week, she deserves a bit of a breather"

The officer snapped his fingers and two of his droid aids extended their hands, small pockets of gold and silver medallions beamed onto their palms. They deposited the medallions into Gordon's extended hands.

"Ta very much" he said, and instructed his own droids to hand over the vat to customs before returning to his ship

"That quick huh?" said his co-pilot as Gordon returned to the controls.

"One thing I'll say about this tournament, it takes such high priority that all the more rigorous routines tend to go a lot more efficiently" replied Gordon

"Well, that's what happens when you deliver one of the tournament's main prizes"

As the ship took off, the customs team took their acquisition to a large triangular room with a white and crystal brown theme gracing the walls and flooring. Within the room was an elegant dark haired woman wearing a kimono.

"He's ready for transportation to the planet" said the officer

"Good. We'll be leaving for the planet together as soon as I feel he's healthy enough to move about"

"You're letting him walk freely? Madame, isn't that a bit unwise?" asked the officer

"He won't cause any trouble. Not with me around. Is there word on Hunt?"

"Still on Earth ma'am, he's still attempting to resolve the Sagan sanction"

"Send the Sisterhood after him, he is required to make it all work"

"For the sake of the trap? To ensure there is not _one_ loose detail?" asked the officer

"For the sake of honour. I am not the callous type, unlike Saki, unlike the Monster Minds"

"Speaking of the Monster Minds, they moved on the Vehemsion section just under an hour ago, one of the participants known to the cargo has taken the fight to them fresh after losing his place in the tournament"

"Which one?" asked the woman, "Please not the one with the coy sense of humour..."

"Negative ma'am, it's who you dated while you were preparing the snare"

The woman smiled, "Ah yes, him, a fine plate of chips that lad"

"Explain what you mean?"

The woman closed her eyes and slipped back through the wisps of remembrance, to a childhood day spent in the company of bombastic businessmen causing intense rows between them and her father, a small plant-like creature that crept into her mind, and a gentle soul who taught her tricks with Origami.

"Private joke" she said.

Gently loosening her grip on the past to focus on the present, the woman approached the vat and stared at the creature inside.

"Can he speak?" she asked

"I have time" said a faint voice from inside the vat.

The woman beamed.

"Thoughts Young blossom. Give them to me" the creature spoke, his strength fading but still containing enough strength to request something challenging of the spirited woman gazing back at him from the opposite end of the stasis tank he was being held in.

"You care about my thoughts?" replied his captor, confused and just a little touched, "Even after all I've..."

"It is said that a wise sage can be renewed by whispers of a shattered age"

"You got that from a toy commercial...I'm sure of it" the woman replied.

"A memory is triggered then...yes, yes I was right about you all along wasn't I?"

"I suppose I wasn't too keen on keeping it a secret for long..." the woman admitted, taking out a blank and crumpled note of paper from her pocket

"I dismantled it back in '96, to see if I could remember the trick you taught me"

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

**SCOTLAND**

**1981**

Gillen couldn't believe it.

Fifteen times she had told him. Fifteen. She counted.

But Chaplin didn't listen.

And now she had to pay Tommy Jacks money.

She stormed through the kitchen and hastily made herself a sandwich, she didn't even bother putting anything on it. Not even a dollop of mayonnaise.

A boy ran up behind her, carrying no less than two heavy school bags, one belonging to him, another to Gillen

"How long am I gonna have to do this?" asked the boy

"Until you apologize"

"For what?" asked the boy

"He totally called what you were doing" said Gillen

"The teacher didn't catch on, at least I'm not going to get a conduct card out of it, I'm not getting tossed in the sin bin over it"

"Yeah, but you're my best friend, and Tommy's club has hang-ups about guilt by association. I have to pay a fine because he caught on to what you were doing waiting in line to have your homework marked"

"You were the one telling me to write down the answers, the teacher had them all laid out in front while he was marking them, they should fine the teacher for basically giving us a hand-out"

"A teacher in Tommy's club? Do you not see the blur in the lines between kid and adult? You so eager to grow up and fit in with that kind of pack?" Gillen angrily asked

"It's better than some dopey drama group, especially when all the drama has to do with whoever is causing it"

"Oh so you're telling me that my aspirations are to join something boring? That I'm boring?"

"I never said that..."

"You won't be saying much more of anything in a minute you little..." said Gillen, forming a fist, but the remainder of her sentence was cut off by her mother as she marched down the stairs in a frantic mood

"Dear, we've got visitors coming, your father will want you looking at your best" Mrs. Gillen said, before stumbling on the sight of the boy and Gillen, she took immediate notice of the bags in the boy's hand and his strained face as he continued to carry them.

"Chaplin, what are you doing carrying that load? The load must be perishing"

"She's making me" Chaplin replied

"Karai Gillen, you sure know how to inflict pain on a poor sod, now get ready"

"Yes Ma" said Karai, sulking and heading up to the stairs, making sure to push one of the bags off of Chaplin's stack


	2. But Still Its Farewell

**CHAPTER TWO:**

**"BUT STILL IT'S FAREWELL..."**

* * *

**PLANET EARTH**

**FIFTEEN MONTHS AFTER A.P.E FALL.**

**2014**

* * *

The teeming mass of squadron cars roared down the highway as the yellow VW beetle ran a kamikaze course through the busy roads, even going as far as cutting in between cars and managing to skirt through every available short cut that would take them in and out of the highway, backwards and forwards, in a frantic bid to clear space and confuse pursuers, leaving them in such a state that the car and its occupants were able to resume their journey, a rendezvous vital to their survival had been set in motion

Amongst the police cars caught up in the confusing exchange between cat and mouse was one belonging to Officer Sam Barrette, who was not taking the pursuit lightly

"They're trying to make us go 'round in circles, don't let them cut through any pockets of the city that can create the illusion of a repeated pattern" he ordered

A small black 1983 Audi Quattro with green stripes sprayed across the sides suddenly dashed past the police car, as it did so, a hand reached out of the window and snapped it's two fingers. Sam's car suddenly froze in its tracks.

"What happened?" Barrett yelled

"Something switched on the brakes...but I've got a hunch..." his partner replied, looking over the dash, trying to find something, finally, he locked onto what he was finding, a tiny troll doll with green hair with blinking red lights in its eyes could be found hanging out of the open glove compartment

"Hunt's done it to us again" Barrett's partner responded, picking the troll out of the compartment and handing it to Barrette. "It's remote controlled, I'd try to break it but it might not cause control of the car to relinquish"

"Radio the other squadron cars, tell them to follow our route"

"Can't. Radio is dead"

Barrette pounded the car dash with his right hand.

"No, we've got to stay in front blast it, we can't let Hunt overtake us and intercept"

"But sir, it's his case. Been that way for months, he deserves to be there when the drop occurs"

"He's been obsessive about this, I've seen what that sort of drive does to people, it warps their perspectives, this isn't just a routine case, this is personal for him. We can't have that."

The Quattro soon caught up to the enemy vehicle, which was now slowly slipping out of the city's main highways and entered a series of derelict and disused office blocks. The group of rouges parked the car and dashed out of it. As they scrambled to enter the building, they checked a nervous brown-haired and lean young man with a small greyish coat clutching a laptop, which they gave a beady little eye towards.

"Keats, did you get the last of the files?" one of them said to the young man.

"It'll keep, it'll keep" he said, "You think I'd keep Sagan waiting with _this_? Practically the reason A.P.E was trying to wake him up in the first place?"

The rouges looked for signs that could point them in the proper direction, finally, they stumbled onto a block with a door that had been forced open and the wooden barricades surrounding it torn down. Given the remaining buildings were bolted up with such material, they took that as a welcome sign.

When they entered however, they found no trace of who they were expecting.

"He's not here...great. Just swell. He must have caught on that Hunt was coming" said one of the group.

"No wait, look, he left a note" Keats said, scrambling to pick something up from the floor

"Farmhouse. North of here. Ten mile drive" he said, reading the note aloud.

"Great, he must have known the cops were coming"

"He always knows...he must be getting pretty desperate if he's had to go out of town now"

A small noise made the group turn, they saw a lean bespectacled woman shyly step into the building

"Oh, oh I'm sorry, I guess I was looking for the ladies', or somewhere to whizz anyway"

"You've got ten seconds to turn around and walk away" said one of the group.

Another member sneaked up on the woman from behind and wrapped his arm around her neck

"Five seconds to say you love me, I'd hate to be disappointed" he said

"Beef, what are you doing? Let her go, she doesn't mean any harm" Keats replied

"Time you learned what you signed on for Keats...the power is with the women, we take this broad in, the cops won't touch us"

"Don't need the personal touch, when you've got a professional bullet" said a voice from behind them, Beef turned to greet the latest intruder.

There, standing before them, was a tall and bald green creature with black shades and a long dark overcoat with sandshoes for feet and a long range rifle

"Today your diary will read, took a human hostage and was shot by one armed and angry Turtle"

"You don't scare me scale-skin" said Beef

" I'd hate to disappoint you 'Beefy', but I happen to marvel at the color of green" said the woman, who rammed her elbow into Beef's stomach, ducked, and swung her leg, catching Beef's foot and sending him hurtling to the floor. She placed one high heel on his chest and dug deep into it with the heel.

"Classiest style I've seen all week" said the Turtle, putting the rifle away.

"Seriously Don, is there a bathroom in this building? I really did come in here for a spot of relief" said the woman.

Don approached Keats and the rest of the gang, two of the rogues rushed him, but Don pulled a Bo staff from his coat, rammed it square into the forehead of one of the group, then cracked it behind the back of another, before posing in a fighting stance at a frightened Keats, who dropped the laptop and fainted.

"Skinny lad" uttered a cold and collected Don Hunt as he closed Keat's eyes and patted him delicately on the cheek before walking up to the woman.

"He didn't have to approve of the whole thing, but he did...he used to be pretty big in weight too, from the group photos you kept showing me, he shed a lot, something must have changed him. Changed him real good, to make him drop all that weight..."

"The weight was a habit. Like you, he dropped what was holding him back, weighing him down. So much of you we see now, so much loss..."

"I keep what's important" replied Don.

"Like the mission?" asked the woman, "That is what you held onto the last time, what did you consider yourself?"

"I considered myself the Dark Turtle"

"Did you think you were a good person? Were you the same thing in your mind? As you are now?"

"I have to be certain of that Irma, I have to be right all the time, especially at this stage"

As the remainder of the police arrived and mop-up operations began, Barrette was quick to berate Don for his actions. Don wasn't listening. As always. For he was in the right.

He wasn't reprimanded. He had, after all, managed to snare the group with the aid of Irma, the laptop and its contents were now in the secure hands of the force, and now he had, courtesy of the note, the co-ordinates required to continue his pursuit.

Irma wished the kindly creature she knew once as Donatello would regain his spark and rise to the surface again, she wished she had never gotten involved with A.P.E or the Sagan Sanction that had emerged from the collapse of that organization, she felt things were moving too slowly, even at the rate Turtles were usually known for. She'd love to speed up the healing process.

As they drove back into town in the Quattro, Irma passed a theatre, she alerted Don to it.

"Fancy some popcorn and a bit of a show?" she asked, "They're showing _A Million Ways To Lie To The West_ by Jones Alexander, It's a conspiracy theorists Rosetta stone, it's funded by Pen Pal Soda, I thought you might like to check it out"

"I have to pop out for a bit" Don said, noticing two people staring ominously at him, perched on top of a stoop overlooking a tall grey building with silver eagle statues on the left and right of it.

"Pop out? Where?" Irma asked

The Quattro came to a stop and Don emerged from it, he gave the observant group, three females in total attired in a mesh of red and white robes, a good solid glance and fixed his gaze back to Irma "Gonna turn down a show of a different kind" said Donatello

"Can I come?" said Irma, "More to the point, is there any more tail to kick?"

"Afraid this won't be one of your Ma Rambo moments Langenstien" said Don, "Go enjoy your stories"

Irma nodded , exited the Quattro, and entered the theatre. Don walked over to the three girls

"Last time. It's premium or nothing" he said

"We can only afford rows Four, Five, and...Twenty Three" said one of the women

"Cheap seats? Is that how you go about treating someone who came the furthest in your little shell-ri-laugh riot of a tourney?"

"We wish you to remain inconspicuous. Your recent change in identity helps greatly with that...but you are required to be here. You must all be assembled, united, as a contingency...in case HE wins"

"I have business to deal with"

"The Sagan Sanction? Don't concern yourself...it's very nearly over"

"And you can tell the future now?"

"It is one of our...requirements"

"Don't try to speed up the process. I'm a Turtle. We take it slowly. Good day ladies"

Don Hunt turned to walk away and headed back towards the Quattro, locked himself in, and started playing "_The Same Old Scene_" by Roxy Music over the car radio, drowning out the women as they uttered the following words in unison

"Will you be there? At the middle? At the end?"


	3. And Maybe We'll Come Back

**CHAPTER THREE**

**"AND MAYBE WE'LL COME BACK..."**

* * *

**SECOND CHANCE QUALIFIER **

**PLANET EARTH**

**GUGGENHIEM MUSEUM**

**2014**

* * *

The sheer force of power from Metalhead's pulsating energy shock wave hit Raphael like a freight train, sending him careering into the statue of the headless and limbless angel at the forefront of the museum. Cheering Raphael on were several onlookers, some of them taking photographs. While momentarily stunned, Raphael, slightly groggy, took the time to address an issue going on in his head. Activity. Noise.

Voices.

_"Take Twenty-Two...you sure you've got that line down? Rob? Rob are you listening?"_

_"Give me a minute...thought I'd heard something there..."_

_"Background noise. They're playing the latest rushes... "_

"_Rushes_" Raphael thought to himself, "What is it with the rushes? I tried that already"

Raphael tried jumping as Metalhead clenched it's fist and threw it down hard on the concrete flooring, another pulsating shockwave was thrown from its cold metal limbs and travelled across the floor to where Raphael was situated. The jump was poorly timed, and the pulse still caught him as he leapt, sending him reeling back. Metalhead darted over to the recovering Turtle and caught him as he turned around with a sidekick from a hyper-extended knee.

Raphael realized how much trouble he was in, he searched for the voices in his head yet again, remembering the meditations he had been sharing with his brothers in more calm and content periods, remembering what Splinter taught him.

And then it occurred to him

Splinter.

The one constant reminder that the lives of him and his four brothers were always leading somewhere, the soothing conscious clarity that would bring an effective halt to their conflicts regarding issues of confidence.

Of all the voices he was hearing, that one was conspicuous by its absence. And he had to figure out where it had gone. And he knew the best route to travel was via the resolution of this particular conflict.

"You sure know how to pick a scrap, all the more fitting since you're going to the scrap heap" said Raphael, and, with renewed vigour, leapt high into the air, as did Metalhead, it extended it's right leg yet again, but Raphael took out his two sais, stretched his body outright, swam through the thin air, dodged the side kick, and thrust the sais into the base of Metalhead's skull, both bodies crashed into a heap on the floor of the museum, the impact so great the bust of a Unicorn's head fell off its perch and crashed down onto Metalhead, the light in its eyes flickered and burned bright for a couple of seconds, before ultimately fading

Raphael got up, dusted himself off, approached the crowd and took a selfie of himself

"Just send this radical little portrait to the Triveras registry and I should be good to go again" said Raphael, "Thanks for the encouragement people, now you'd best be vamoosing, Stockman's mousers will making this drop on this building at any moment"

The crowd understood and immediately began pouring out of the museum, with Raphael staying behind. He walked back over to Metalhead and gently kicked it

"_They'll re-release anything these days for a hefty collectors price_" thought Raphael to himself, "_Though I'd sure like to know if Metal Mickey here had anything to do with transmitting those voices in my noggin, that's what caused me to drop out of this fight the first time...ah well, so long as I keep reminding myself there's only one voice I'd like to hear all my live-far-too-long days, whatever else goes on up here won't pester me_"

The walls to the right of him suddenly gave away and a teeming armada of mousers poured in, all taking a bite out of the flooring and took bites out of every other bit of flooring and concrete wall available to them. One of the marauding machines stopped dead in its tracks and projected a hard light image of a winged and grotesque half-human, half-insect creature in a white lab coat

"Alright Baxter, I've qualified for a second chance, once I'm approved you can send me on my way"

"I look forward to it you wry and witless Turtle Twit Stick, just remember, if you lose this time, I lay a claim on the remaining fifty percent of the city, meaning I can pick apart any building I so desire"

"Must be a real thrill to be picking a painting apart...though not in the critical kind of fashion" said Raphael

"You know what they say, art for breakfast, art for tea" Baxter hissed.

A fax was suddenly handed to him off-screen

"Hmm,, you have indeed been approved, very well, you have your second chance, see that you do not squander it, or you will find you will have squandered the future opportunities of every soul in the city"

"You could say, if I screw up, I'll be _soul_ sorry" Raphael remarked

Baxter gagged at the bad comedy and snapped his fingers. The Mouser opened its jaw and let out a translucent beam of silver energy that wrapped itself around Raphael and sent him, for the unenlightened, into the unknown, but for him, the all too familiar, as the museum came crashing down.


	4. To Earth Who Can Tell?

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**"TO EARTH, WHO CAN TELL?"**

* * *

**YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE**

**PLANET EARTH**

* * *

**2014**

Renae walked through the top floor of the mall, in the DVD section, browsing through the racks looking for a film, any film, to watch at home while waiting for the studios to get back to her on an important matter.

She'd been drafted back into _their _world. The fourth season to be exact. The feelings of sentimental nostalgia washed over and tickled her. She embraced the small jolts of anticipation, preparing for a more overwhelming rush of the sensation when the time came to enter the voice booth and bring life to a character that she felt was as animated as her.

As a matter of fact, an episode was running on the array of television monitors right in front of her, she decided to take a gander at it. By sheer luck, it was "Wormquake", which reunited several of the voice actor alumni associated with the show she was on.

Suddenly, the television flickered and fluctuated, and the image of a lean tall and slightly dry and stony man in a pink shirt and tie clutching a slightly dented video camera flickered into Renae's view.

"April? Can you hear me? It's Vernon" he said

"I've seen this episode a couple of times, I don't recall this" said Renae in befuddlement, "Unless there's a director's cut I'm not aware of"

"Look, I know I'm not...I know I haven't been your best friend...haven't been a friend to anyone, and I know, I KNOW I lose my head in these crazy situations, but...I can't help but think back to how it all began, back when I had a bit of courage. Ever so slight courage. I defied the boss for you once, risked a pay cheque, risked my job, just we could prove your Turtle friends were on the level, where has that backbone _been _the rest of my life? It's just...I tried to get it back, you know, hence the state of the camera, but it didn't even phase that giant shark-man-thing, it let out a howl and threw this blue energy bolt at me, almost singed my bootie..."

The screen flickered again and went into a state of static flux, suddenly a bombastic voice echoed across the loudspeakers of the mall as a roster of colourful characters, Turtles, aliens, and ninja warriors sprawled onto the screens of the television monitors

_"__**LIVE BY SATTELITE LINK-UP FROM AROUND THE WORLD**_

_**CHANNEL 6 PRESENTS THE MOST INCREDIBLE DISPLAY OF STRENGTH AND POWER EVER BROUGHT TO YOUR TELEVISION SCREEN-**_

_**THE TOURNAMENT FIGHTERS"**_

Renae's recognized the voice over the loudspeakers

"Townsend?" asked Renae, "Where...is this a joke?"

"Raph's the comedian, I just chill" the voice said

"What is with the Michelangelo accent? Raph? You mean Rob right?" Renae continued

"I always did wonder what names we could have been given if Master Splinter were a little more street" the voice replied, "A sure suggestion there babe"

"Don't call me that, it's a bit inappropriate" Renane replied. Around her a few onlookers began to flock around her, scratching their heads

"You can all see this right?" Renae asked of them, "Please tell me you can..."

She composed herself, realizing that only she could witness these events.

The screen flickered again, and the unnerved and concerned features of a medium sized man with rimmed glasses appeared

"Renae? You don't know me, but my name is Chaplin...listen to me, you're the best of them you hear? You don't have to take part in this fight, you're innocent in all of this, all of you are, you all need to walk away. Just...just let it go ok? I don't want you to end up like..."

"GET UP" cried a raspy and half-drowned voice, almost as if someone were speaking through gills.

And suddenly the mall had gone, the televisions had gone, the customers had gone...

...And Renae was gone.

In her place was a slim and slender female tethered in a loose orange vest and torn blue shorts, lying motionless in lowly street corner with a hoard of onlookers wearing vests and torn jeans and shorts, some of them wearing shades, some with headbands tightly wrapped around their craniums, all whistling and making cat calls at the sight of her. To the right of her was a tall grey creature that resembled a shark, it unhinged it's jaw and a small light bolt of energy began to circulate in its mouth

The woman instinctively rolled out of the way as a blast of energy threw itself from the creature's mouth and hit a nearby wall, instantaneously vaporising it

"Again, enough of this, you've been disqualified" said an officious looking man in a suit that was a mixture of red and beige with a blue neck tie. The creature glared at him and proceed to walk away as several armed guards eased him along on his way with electronic rods, ensuring no further trouble would be caused. The official raised his hand and made a passing glance to the woman, who was picking herself up, he looked to a row of people observing the action behind a desk in the middle of the street

"Judges, if you care to gaze upon the combatant's life readings" the official said, "The points system speaks for itself, there is 35% damage to the disqualified party, 25% damage to the Earthling combatant. Based on statistics, and the circumstances, we afford this qualifying contest to April O'Neil"

Vernon raced over to April's side as her hand was raised, she gently rubbed her lip, slightly swollen, and tasted a faint trickle of blood

"Are you ok April?" asked Vernon

"Talk about sour grapes, that shark could have bitten off a whole lot to chew on if there weren't any rules to follow on this thing"

"Ms. O'Neil, we will be sending you over to the Triveras Quadrant for the next lap of your tournament bracket, congratulations. You disembark in two hours"

"And I will be covering her exploits via representation by Channel Six" replied Vernon

"I'm stuck with a valuable friend" remarked April sarcastically.

"I'm happy, hope you're happy too" replied Vernon

April gazed out at the brightly lit sky, the distant and setting sun embedding itself in her eyes

"I'm coming Mike...I'm coming"


	5. I Guess There Is Noone To Blame

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**"I GUESS THERE IS NOONE TO BLAME"**

* * *

**SCOTLAND**

**1981**

* * *

The arguments between Mrs. Gillen's husband and his business associates were feverish and intense, too much for an impressionable youngling to endure at a tender age, that was at least Gillen's rational. She felt a fool trying to paint a pretty picture, the people her husband were associated with had no time for pleasantries. They were keen on time and less on patience.

"Why can't I go in and make Daddy feel better? Those guys are giving him a right roasting" said Karai as her mother rushed her and Chaplin into the kitchen

"I didn't think things would get this intense between them, it's best to stay out of the way until they simmer down hen" said Mrs. Gillen, "Sit down and I'll make a fresh set of sandwiches for the pair of you"

Karai and Chaplin sat down while Mrs. Gillen took the opportunity to nip out to the bathroom

"You still haven't told me what I should apologize for" said Chaplin.

"I haven't come up with a _specific_ reason yet" Karai replied, "Maybe the way you kept staring back at me when looking at the answer sheet, I think Tommy caught on right there"

A tall and slender man in a grey business suit with a purple tie suddenly barged into the room, holding a jar. Contained within that jar was a small pulsating vine with membrane pouring out of the top of it.

"I don't want to sound like I'm pushing a product in your face dear, but I love all living things and I figured I could do with sharing this with you"

"What is that mister?" asked Karai

"A mind of monstrous possibility. You may want to hold on to this as well" said the man, clutching a small prism in his hand, he gently placed it into Karai's palm. "Now, why don't you press down on it, and keep concentrating on the vine at work, the mind in motion"

"My ma told me never to talk to strangers" said Karai

"Oh but I am no stranger, in time you will feel like you have known me all my life..."

"Don't do it Karai, you'll get a tanning from your ma for sure" said Chaplin.

Karai was tempted, she pressed her index finger down hard on the prism, suddenly a voice interrupted them

"Would you care to bend something out of shape in more simpler ways?" asked another man in a pink kimono.

"What do you want Yoshi?" said the other man, slowly turning red as anger grew inside of him.

Yoshi took out a small piece of paper and began to play around with it, shaping it into an origami piece, shaping it in the form of a small turtle.

"To give size and structure to a mind only now beginning to build on possibility, do not try to overcomplicate everything Saki" said Yoshi

"You talk funny mister" said Chaplin

"Don't be rude" said Karai, elbowing her friend

Yoshi smiled, and handed Karai the small origami piece.

"I've seen this kind of thing before, but...never seen someone make a shape like this before, how'd you do it? Will you teach me?"

"I can show you a trick or two, but the important thing is to never trick yourself"

"I don't follow" said Karai

Mrs. Gillen came back into the room, "What is this? A gathering? Shoo the pair of you" she said to the two men, "Fifty-One Fantasies and The Foot won't be making a splash with my two little pudding puddles"

Karai remained awe-struck at the origami mould, as Saki placed the jar with the plant creature gently next to it

"Ignore what Yoshi said, the problem is choice" he said.

The conflicting advice would drive Karai Gillen all the way through her formative years.

There was no one to blame for her actions later. She would come to understand that.

It was all down to choice.

The choice she made.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

**THE VEHEMSION SECTOR**

**SEIGE OF THE PLEXION **

**2014**

Leonardo cut through another vine in the large overgrowth as he tried in vain to reach the jagged looking cylinder in the midst of the menagerie of tendril weeds.

"Oon, how's progress?" he said to someone that was following him, trying desperately to skirt past the torrents of laser blasts emitting from their pursuers, two living vehicles, one with a snake head attached to the top of it, and another with a giant buzz saw perched at the top, both were firing concentrated crimson energy blasts at the fleeing pair.

"Master Jayce is still far from final approach Leonardo" replied Oon, an orange and grey midget robot knight brandishing a jousting tool that was far too big for him to carry.

"When does your girlfriend arrive with back-up?" replied Leonardo

"Do you always ask these many questions?" said Oon, "Especially when I only have half the information? I have enough confidence issues as it is"

"Confidence in a crisis makes men out of all of us, a wise one once taught me that" said Leonardo,

"Doesn't really fit us, you're a turtle and I'm a robot" said Oon.

"Well the one who taught me is half rat, the meaning's still the same" replied Leonardo

"Cam?" uttered a voice in his head. Leonardo shook himself out of it

"Not now" he said

"What is it?" said Oon, clubbing another monstrous vine as it leapt out to try and tackle Leonardo. Leonardo caught sight of it and slashed it with his blades

"Just that same voice that set me up for that clobbering I took from that Triceraton, the one that took Master Splinter. I figured if I could beat him, they'd give me access to where they'd taken him, but he was able to take advantage of my distraction and pummel me"

"That must have been the smarts. I'm starting to feel slightly guilty for persuading you to give up a second chance qualifier to help us secure the Plexion"

"Well I felt something from the voice in my head pulling me towards this...I feel if I qualify again for the tournament I'll be driven to more distraction"

Leonardo sensed another vine attack was on the way, so he pointed Oon to the left of them, where they climbed over the edge of one vine and stared into the abyss of space

"It's a dead end" said Oon

"No, it's not, see? See Oon? There's a clearing right below us, all we have to do is leap"

"But we'll be crushed upon impact" said Oon

Leonardo threw one of his blades with precise care, it dropped down and with a solid thud embedded itself on the plant-like pathway below.

"Time to test how much of my agility was left intact after the beating I took" said Leonardo, "Climb on my back Oon"

Oon reluctantly did so, Leonardo spread out his arms, as he did, the voice rattled through his head again

"Cam, please, it's Chaplin...don't try and storm the Plexion, keep the Monster Minds out, but don't venture in here yourself, if you learned what I have it's...I don't know...I don't know why I'm even calling myself Chaplin. I'm...scared of looking up whatever other name I go by. You know that saying 'never Google yourself?', that describes it...look I know I'm not making any sense but...you know what? I need someone fresh into this, someone who's just waking up, I think I've given him enough time now. I'll be in touch, just...don't try to take the Plexion. You won't see yourself the same afterwards"

Leonardo refused to take the advice.

Through all his moments of inner conflict and confronting doubts over his ability, one thing was constant, his desire to do right in whatever circumstance. Even now, when Oon and his master Jayce approached him after the battle with the Triceraton, he knew this mission would take him away from the reason he entered the galactic tournament...to retrieve Master Splinter, and confront the young woman who had used him to get to him

He needed to do the right thing at the cost of revenge.

He was taught well, and he was proud to fully realize those teachings.

Karai Gillen would have to wait her turn.

Leonardo looked down, gazed at the sword, took a glance backwards, saw the approaching Monster Minds, and jumped off the ledge of the vine, dropping like a stone, he spread his right hand out wide and turned his body in mid-air, his hand grabbed onto the handle of the blade and he swung himself over before releasing and landing with both feet on the soft green patch

"We made it, we made it" said Oon, sheer elation in his voice

"Now all we have to hope is for Jayce and others to make it, come on let's go" said Leonardo, "We're only a few more miles from the Plexion. Once it's secure, I'll find out just what the Monster Minds want with it...whether I like what I find in there or not"


	6. We're Leaving Ground

**CHAPTER SIX:**

**"WE'RE LEAVING GROUND"**

* * *

**PRECINCT 17**

**NEW YORK CITY**

Irma was expecting it to come any minute now. It had happened but once already and she figured it weighed so heavily the first time, it was bound to try and unnerve her again.

She had imagined herself in a coffee shop the first time, someone on the opposite end was reading a newspaper, occasionally putting it down on the table and glancing at her while in the midst of relaxing and working on answering some crossword puzzle. She averted her own gaze the first few instances, but soon found herself transfixed by the practise, curious as to why the person was eyeing her like that.

There was nobody around to assure her, Donatello was too busy pondering on how to best bring the obsessive project that had compelled both him and Irma to join the NYPD, to bring down A.P.E, to reshape her once sheltered boyfriend into a hardened inspector with an iron girth as well as grip.

The messenger came with a different word for her...a name she knew, tucked away in the wisps of near-remembrance, a small detail, a_ tiny_ detail.

Perhaps she met someone with the name, it felt so much like a stranger, yet at the same time it was like an open book, the pages of which she could read with complete and content knowledge.

She felt like she should fear it...but very little scared her. She had proven herself a clear, concise, and attentive combatant on several occasions. It was one of the principle factors that had drawn Donatello to her in the first place and what had made her a valid extension of the Yoshi clan and family unit

She vowed that nothing at this stage of the game would phase her. She had been warned about the psychological intrusions from Sagan that had played about with Donatello's own head and was fully prepared for the same approach. Made all the sense in the world for her to be targeted, someone that Don cared about.

Although she had tried to keep awake by typing and filing several dossiers on assorted cases for the unit she and Don Hunt worked for, but the efforts had done more to tire her out than the thrill of a chase of a perpetrator at Don Hunt's side.

As she relaxed her head on the edge of her desk in the main unit station, her thoughts drifted to how amused she had been that, despite the events of the last fifty-six days, with half the city in the grip of mousers, techno gangsters, a mixture of assorted human and alien combatants tearing through the city, and minimal trace of April or the remaining Turtles, the NYPD had been concerning itself more with the small potatoes of trafficking, smuggling, petty gang warfare, and of course the recent Sagan Sanction that had brought her and Don into the fold.

Perhaps it was all they could be capable of handling. Everything else felt so much larger than their usual mixture in life. The army had been called in to deal with some of the clean-ups required in the trenches, perhaps by concerning themselves more with the ordinary, they can hope to bear the extraordinary goings-on more. Years worth of experience with the latter in the heart of this city also could have numbed them to the goings-on, perhaps they no longer considered it such a big deal.

Or maybe Don Hunt, Donatello, through his marvellous use of inventive skill, working his magic, had put some sort of scientifically-enhanced spell all over them

So much to think about, and it was driving her to taxation. A little nap was required

And that's when she received the visit.

Only she was ready for it. She imagined herself on a deserted island with a radio next to her, with the voice coming through it. On every station she turned to.

She chose to give it some colour, some mockish, grating, overbearing voice, something comical this time as opposed to the cold and informal tone that had come through the first time. By giving it entertainment value, she could bear to listen to it.

So she imagined the voice was coming from an over-the-top DJ.

"Jennifer" said Chaplin, talking like a DJ, using a prickly high-pitched voice with a large emphasis on stretching out every two words with a wooing noise "I know you don't want to hear any more from the oh so dreadful bit of info that took you from a side, but it's best you listen to this before you take Sagan to the slammer, see, I'm going to be prying him away from you, you won't have a thing to worry about, or alternatively, you could...come here, to where we are, come after him, he's got no voice, no real power, he knows that, but you? You have power, you have a voice, that voice has a name...I told you before didn't I? About the value of names, your true names, not the fabrication, nothing that chains you...it's time you knew the truth, it's time..."

Alarm bells suddenly echoed through the radio, startling Irma, she covered her ears as the noise grew louder, the island she dwelled on began to shake and shimmer, the water and sand came together and formed a swirling quicksand vortex, dragging everything perched on top of it into the centre. Irma struggled to stay above ground, but found herself swamped.

She found herself in a white void, staring at her were three formal looking men in dinner suits, one was armed with a laser rifle. He handed her it.

"Best to arm yourself at this stage" said one of the officious looking gentlemen. "You needn't worry, it's a realist firewall, the instant that voice you heard starts up again, taking whatever form you imagine, be it shape or otherwise, the firewall will trigger, of course it does mean a few sleepless nights, but in time you should be able to function as you used to. Again, we are terribly sorry for the intrusion, from Doctor Chaplin and indeed from all of us here at **P**lexion **S**ecurity **T**ransitions.

"P.S.T?" Irma replied, "You're...P.S.T?"

"Yes we are, but we're not on the wine all the time ma'am" replied the gentleman, giving her a coy wink. Irma didn't laugh at the joke. Nor did she get it.

Chaplin wasn't about to let P.S.T get the last word in.

"Jennifer, they've been trying this the most with you because you're the most durable, but don't worry, I've already locked on to your present problem, they can't stop me here on the outside of the Plexion database. Take care of your boyfriend, he'll have no excuses once I'm through..."

"Look attentive Langenstien" snapped Office Barrette as he pounded his fist on the table, stirring Irma from her slumber. The voices, both seemingly with her interests in mind, were firmly shut off.

"I want you to write up a report on Hunt" Barrette spoke

"Are you sure that's Wise?" said Irma, "If it goes to review, you know what he did to the last board that faced him down"

"I'm well aware of what happened to a yuppie in-over-their-head think tank, but this is the law's long branch you're clutching on to. Take one brick out of the wall and our foundation is firm. You're the closest to Hunt so we would like a bit of a psychological assessment. At best, if you feel not up to it, and you see the second chance in him that I am testing myself in trying to permit, then talk to him, make it clear to him this obsession can only end in his removal from the force, and I'd hate to do that to him after all the good work he's put into keeping this city clean and clear"

"I'll see what I can do" Irma replied.

As Barrette left her, she decided to drift back to sleep.

Tucked away in her head as she left ground, she hoped that the firewall given to her hadn't been switched off

"P.S.T'd off? You'd better not be, or I will be" she muttered.


	7. Will Things Ever Be The Same Again?

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**WILL THINGS EVER BE THE SAME AGAIN?**

* * *

**YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE**

**2014**

Michelangelo felt like he had just swallowed an entire interstellar star quadrant

Given his recent experiences, perhaps the comparison was apt.

His mind drifted back to a conversation Leonardo and Raphael once had while he was trying to sleep on the couch next to them. At the time he didn't quite remember all the specifics due to being out like a light, but, as Master Splinter had taught him, and as he was discovering sleeping awake, the mind is always absorbing and assimilating the state in and around itself. As dreams took over, reality continued uninterrupted, and it did not go unnoticed.

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

**THE TURTLES LAIR**

**FIFTY-SIX DAYS EARLIER**

**2014**

"You have a date" said Raphael, "She won't notice"

"Notice what?" said Leonardo as he splashed water all over the corners of his cheek and dried them with a towel

"Your usual hang-ups" Raphael replied.

Leonardo mumbled

"Hey, don't go in thinking you're going fail Master Splinter or anything, have a caviller attitude, or do I need you to remind you of your Musketeer phase?"

"The mind does try to wander from that" Leonardo confessed

"And there's your hang-up, you drift too much, even from your business as usual phase, always trying to sort the tiniest detail out in your head, so many faults, and it's that that causes fault in yourself, I feel you on that, there's been a few times we've let it rub us all the wrong way, remember that time we all fell out tailing Shredder and Krang across Dimension X on that Turtle Trek? I feel like the writers were having their necks breathed upon heavily by the networks demanding more conflict. I had to do a lot of rationalizing after that episode...I still don't quite understand it either, I've never been used to so much fire in my voice, I approach life like it's always Saturday morning"

"You think I'm going to project these 'hang ups' onto the date?"

"Hey, she's Scottish, they love to make a commotion out of people with evident hang-ups, and they like to pick a fight about it"

"You need to pick a fight more often, like that Raphael we met during the Turtle Prime fiasco"

"Mr. Chiselled Chip on his shoulder? No way, he'd barely last nine years in our neck of the woods. Me? I'm a perfect ten and above"

"She thinks your humour's too coy, making you at least a seven in her book"

"And what's your opinion?" Raphael replied.

"Your humour gets me through the day, your prowess could do with some work"

"Seven points and one, Way to make me feel oh so Brazilian" Raphael remarked.

"How long has he been lying there?" Leonardo said, observing Michelangelo.

"You know how those weird sessions get, you can't tell if he's pooped out or pooping on a few drug peddlers" replied Raphael.

"I wish there were times where HE'D just say no" said Leonardo

He finished making his preparations and began putting on a modest black shirt with blue tie and jeans, a plastic face mask clutched in hand.

"How do I look?"

"C'mon man, April and Michelangelo are having daily picnics without the faux flesh attached to the green and lean features, you can stand a little scrutiny too"

"Taking the slower path, if days go smoothly I'll open up to her. Besides, it's more to keep a beadier eye on Sensei, he's coming with us to the book launching, he thinks the new volume will make for intriguing reading"

"Can't believe you're reading those books again...didn't you figure out all they made was _romantic _sense, not actual forward-thinking sense?"

" What I'm going through now is pretty romantic" replied Leonardo

"Oh THAT makes sense...you gonna buy her diamonds too?"

"Oh don't start" said Leonardo, "Donatello's got more than me in his pocket to afford Irma those things now"

"Speaking of Don, is he still cooped up in Irma's abode?" Raphael asked

"Yeah, I haven't contacted him since he took up that Hunt persona.. That mental episode he had with Professor Kim Sagan on that trip to Dimension X just changed him, he got so obsessive, and when he found out what A.P.E were doing with Sagan, a trusted group of people that Irma quite liked and was getting well-acquainted with, and then to see him bring down a whole scientific institution through thorough 'research' into embezzling..."

"Come on Leo, Don wouldn't fake charges like that just to call Karma on those who wronged him"

"Nobody knows what Don is thinking when the Dark Turtle Rises" mused Leonardo.

He took a small bottle of aftershave from his right coat pocket and sprayed it on himself

"I'll be back in around an hour"

"Quick date" replied Raphael

"I feel more human already" said Leonardo, putting on his mask, "Go and play a video game or something...pick a fight in the nicest way possible"

"I'll ask April around too, she'll want to take some photos of Sleeping Beauty over there", nudging Michelangelo jokingly

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

**YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE**

**2014**

"Are you awake now?" said a needling and buzzing voice that danced around the shattered senses of Michelangelo's equilibrium

"I'm feeling a little heavy, but...just about" said Michelangelo as he stirred, his eyes awoke and there, staring at him, were the ugly insect features of Baxter Stockman, hovering close to the Turtle's body as it hung from an oval pillar attached to an electrical grid overlooking a sizeable row of majestic and winged angel statues with blank faces.

In the centre of his gaze, he saw a woman protected under a domed glass chamber, like something out of a fairy-tale. Mousers were seated to the right and left, standing guard. Seven of them in total. The quintessential dwarfs of the perplexing piece.

"How is she?" said Michelangelo

"Stabilised" said Baxter

"Where is she?" asked the Turtle further.

"Triveras quadrant. You'll never reach her, I wouldn't try it, not with the fatigue levels I'm reading from you"

"But she has..."

"I know, I know" said Baxter, "She made it under the bridge to the network, that's how I was able to recruit the P.S.T movement. You like that? That little acronym? I was in that very mood, you can probably tell why"

"Yeah, we lay it on you pretty heavy, figures you'd come up with this heavy revenge plot. Heavy ain't healthy man...erm...I mean fly"

"You'll have to excuse me, your brother is about to zero in on someone I have to bring in" Baxter replied as he heard an alert.

"So you're gonna leave me hanging again?" Michelangelo asked

"You can access P.S.T's mainframe anytime you like, they'll keep you company, they're trying to keep Ms. Gillen's friend out of your family's comfort zones remember? I may not be on your side, but they are, they think they're doing a world of good, even when the world's not been very good to them"

"Thanks to you, they're totally out of the zone man, boy I wish I could reach them where they are"

"And what good will _that _do Michelangelo? Hmm? They're content where they are, they have a mission, they have a quest, let them roll with it, let them prove themselves to you. It's everything you've slowly been building towards. You fancy yourself such a big hero, a role model to all, even if all you do these days is sleep awake. You are a hero in your own naptime, how many people recognize that outside of your immediate circle? At least when something causes Donatello's band to snap, he plays more pro-active music in the real world"

"Hey, no fair dude, I've done my share in the great outdoors, just now I do more exorcising than exercises"

"What about your park life with Ms. O'Neil?" Baxter replied

"A rare treat" admitted Michelangelo

"Yes, but you can only hang on your clan's reputation for heroic hi-jinks for so long before the usual hang-ups come calling, "she's a mutant lover,

"April told me long ago that so long as I liked her and she liked me, that would rub off on the clear minded, not the narrow nitpickers"

"The nitpickers run this world Michelangelo, and their quest for the slightest or the severe in inconsistency, the lies within the detail, is what will drive it to ruin. Pen Pal Soda is already prying open eyes and making honest men out of those who have never been that. I think you'll find those that support you have their own reservations, remaining calm and persistent, hoping this latest fad does not become the norm for society, for in their minds eye society will surely crumble, and you all know how people react to the slight and the severe in the form of change and not just the power of truth and clarity"

"Whatever rings true for some, me and my babe will remain true to ourselves" said Michelangelo;

"I presume that means you still have faith you will be reunited with Ms. O'Neil?" said Baxter, scratching Michelangelo's chin.

"Bank on it Baxter" said Michelangelo defiantly.

"You sound eager to pick a fight" said Baxter, "I admired that in Raphael, I admire it in you"

"Did Raph qualify?" asked Michelangelo

"He did indeed. Should be about to enter his first fight now, April is also on her way, but I find in time both may end up enjoying the quest more than the achievement"

"They won't turn their backs on me" said Michelangelo, "And rescuing Splinter is the key, once he's found it's game over, literally"

"You think in such three-dimensional terms about a four-dimensional endeavour" snapped Baxter, landing on top of the glass canister containing the female and petting a mouser perched on top of it, "The tournament for them may not be exactly honest, but rest assured, it does exist, it is going on, and it is close to completion. Even if Ms. Gillen's allies succeed in re-recruiting the distant Don Hunt, the question all of you will be asking, even Hunt as he gazes from the cheap seats with the clearest view, is 'will things ever be the same again?'"

The formless faces of the angel statues suddenly became alight with names and binary code, one following the other in succession

Names that seemed familiar, yet seemed, in the normal pockets of the mind, to belong to complete strangers

Barry

Cam

Rob

Renae

Jennifer

James

Peter

Pat

Townsend

The names suddenly hung on Townsend. The binary resembled the same two numbers. Five and six.

Six tried materializing briefly into seven, but clung to its original numbering

"What's happening?" said Michelangelo

"Plexion Security's detected a viral breach, Chaplin's not playing fair, he's found a way to slide the timescale and get it moving again" said Baxter, "I'm hanging in there but if six goes to just about seven, I've failed. And I don't like to say that often"

"So that means if he...if Chaplin nabs who I think he's going to nab...Don will be back in the picture...and that scares you doesn't it? Alright, I feel it's time to break out the streamers, 'cause he's going to blow the whistle hard on this whole operation" said Michelangelo gleefully

"We don't know what measures Hunt will take to prevent that from happening..." said Baxter

"He won't do anything drastic, he's a hero Turtle" said Michelangelo "Boy, sometimes it's good to have a bit of British Branding in you..."

"We'll see what happens" Baxter said, "With fifty-six almost past us, we're now deep into the final countdown"


	8. We're Heading For Venus

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

"**WE'RE HEADING FOR VENUS"**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you are confused about reviews for this and chapter nine not matching what is described in them, keep in mind that I decided late in the game to rewrite those chapters and extend the story passed it's originally planned length.-Zarius**

* * *

**THE MOON**

* * *

Bebop felt a sensation of ordered calm as he experienced the mint cool aura of air around the tranquil meadows on which he stood. He took in a deep breath, part of him was too stupid to forget to breathe out again, so taken in he was by the grand surroundings, only the gentle beeping of a couple of cars on the open road disrupted his train of minimum thought and convinced him to let out a breath in frustration at the disruption.

"Geez, why can't I pick a tranquil surrounding that's nowhere near an open road on a _Monday_?" said Bebop in dismay, he looked out at one of the cars to find a kid with a kindly face staring in awe at him, before all too quickly pulling a rude facial at the mutant.

"Barry?" a voice uttered from across the scattered winds. Bebop quickly picked up on it

"Who's there?"

"It's me" replied the voice

"Chap Stick huh?" Bebop responded, huffing.

"_Chaplin _you witless warthog. It's _Chaplin_"

"Yeah well I'm Bebop and I'll keep calling you whatever I please 'till you learn to use my proper name"

"Never mind, listen, I've managed to outwit Plexion Security, the timescale is moving within the bleed again, inform Mr. Fraley"

"You mean Krang you've been working way too hard on converting that Mu matter, maybe you should settle down"

"Look, your enemies are scattered across the star systems and some of them are finding ways to enter and work around the tournament going on, if they all reassemble at some point before the Mu matter has a chance of grafting itself onto most of creation, all our work will be for nothing, I have to remind everyone of the reality of the situation, Pat...sorry, 'Krang' wants to move the Mu matter further into the universal bleed, but it might affect how the regulars behind the voices behave and disrupt the whole experiment. I don't want them to end up like Karai, the poor kid doesn't know what she's doing, no idea what side to take, and she'll make enemies on both sides, maybe not just in this reality either, but beyond that"

"That's what happens when you cross lips with a Toitle" said Bebop.

"Look just tell Pat I've found a loophole, I'll go after the one obsession of Don Hunt, the one that has no voice attached to him yet because he's just an errant scribble in some half-baked bun of a mind, you know he seriously tried to end all of this far too abruptly? Leave it all to chance and interpretation, and he had to take advice from others to continue because they saw 'potential' in it?"

"Nobody's going to stop the show while I'm snorting in and out" said Bebop

"Precisely, and speaking of that Turtle Karai locked lips with, he's taken the bait regarding the 'Plexion', once he breaches it, he's going to discover the truth, and you know what his psychological profile is like, the one who doubts himself all the time will go into overdrive with nothing but that, about the nature of himself and reality. Sometimes I play the part of 'scientist touched with the futile truth of existence' all too well..."

"Is this the part where I say you are crazy, you deny it and start producing a hectic cackle?"

"Hahahahahaahahaha...no, I'm stable, quite stable, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA"

"Point proven, but fair enough" said Bebop.

The air around him started to become more overstuffed with a faint metallic aura, electrical stimulation danced around Bebop's frame, and the walls of his present reality slid away, revealing he was inside a padded chamber held somewhere within the mammoth labyrinth that was the Technodrome, filled with naked electrons.

The door opened and the familiar features of a visibly exhausted rhinosaurous in a nightgown holding a flickering candle

"Why are you grafting the Mu matter onto yourself at this time of the night?" said Rocksteady, "You're draining away most of the power in the lower decks, you're even turning the air conditioner off, I can't get any shuteye without that in that boiler of a room"

"I miss the open air back home, figured I might as well spend my time in space with experiencing some personal space"

"Can't you just use one of those EDX things for that?" Rocksteady asked

"Those things are laced with the juice of Dregg; I'd prefer a reality that doesn't bite back"

"Well if you don't start dreaming the old fashioned way, I'm going to have to come in and pinch you with this horn" said Rocksteady, "Besides, Charlie Chaplin is always nosing about in there"

"He's getting cookie, and a little bit spooky, we ought to tell Pat"

"Who's Pat?" asked Rocksteady

Bebop shook his head to shake off the nagging truthful detail in Chaplin's conversation with him, "Krang, that's who I meant"

"Man, if only the boss was here, he'd keep everyone in check...when is he going to be done taking names in that tournament?"

"You know what they say, the winner takes it all, and he's aiming to be that winner...though if you ask me, if Chaplin has his way, he may have to double-check the names he takes"

Krang's voice suddenly burst through the loudspeakers of the Technodrome.

"Bebop, Rocksteady, make your way to the Venus camp immediately. We commence the test detonation of the Mu matter expansion in less than thirty minutes"

"Given how slow the sliding scale is, that should take a few hours still" said Bebop, "You want to go back to bed, or get some fresh air?"

Rocksteady smiled, "So long as I get an ice cream...that always calms me down when things don't make any sense around me"


End file.
